When did
your love for me
become a
*disappearing act?

The long quiet slumber
shatters
with the heat
he summons so easily

My master fire starter.

Building me up
and setting ablaze
She
that has waited long,
           so long
to burst forth -

now,
now,
now,

I Wake.

I've been sent enough
by insecure women
attempting to garner my attention
by exposing their body
which means they don't realize
that a picture does not bear their soul
and I never was that type of man
to be stimulated by the superficial
I have gigabytes worth
In a folder I care not to look at
way back
in my hard drives cache
yet cant delete
luckily for them
I'm not the type of creep
to share them with the world
but you,
you are special enough to me
that I don't need a visual reminder
when its burnt into my synapses
for as long as I live.

Having races brings me back to running rainbows
Jumping over dogs and pancakes
Shadows stretching beyond computers
Is it my imagination, or did the grass run home?
We are empty aluminium shining in the snow
This is how we eat 1000 GB of soil and lyrics.
We are not,
yet we are
reaching out to grab the tables

328

A Bird came down the Walk—
He did not know I saw—
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw,

And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall
To let a Beetle pass—

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroa—
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought—
He stirred his velvet head

Like one in danger, Cautious,
I offered him a Crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home—

Than Oars divide the Ocean,
Too silver for a seam—
Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon,
Leap, plashless as they swim.

F&cking;**
is what I did before you came along
15 minute sessions
between classes
in a ***** dorm room--
hands clawing
lips mashing
hips crushing--
they filled me up
and then left me feeling empty
broken

but you came and picked the pieces up
stitching me back together with your kisses
you showed me you loved me
in the most intimate of ways
hands holding
lips searching
hips grinding
heating your home in the dead of winter
with the steam off our own bodies.